


you and me even after everything

by acidquill



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 03:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acidquill/pseuds/acidquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here, no one knows they're brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you and me even after everything

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by smallworld_inc's art "[The Ozzy Show](http://drawincest.livejournal.com/3888.html)" - though I took liberties with location. originally written May 23 2012.

They’re in New York for midnight. Smack in the middle of Times Square on the absolute craziest night of the year. It’s Dean’s idea, just like the Grand Canyon and Route 66 and the world’s largest non-stick frying pan. Sam can’t help thinking about that year - what was going to be Dean’s last, and all the things they never did, the times he told Dean ‘no.’ All that’s happened since then. Sam hasn’t said no to his brother for a while.  
  
It’s raining by ten-thirty, but that doesn’t seem to stop anybody. Sam shakes the water out of his eyes. The press of people dips and curls around them, excited, screaming; Dean watches everything with something akin to shock.  
  
“ _Fuck_.”  
  
Sam’s never been to Times Square either, but he can’t help keeping his eyes on his brother instead of the crowd. Rain drops catch in Dean’s hair, reflect the lights around them in a sparkling halo. Sam can’t help it. He snags Dean’s hand and laces their fingers together. _Just this once_ , he thinks.  
  
Dean startles for a minute. Studies their hands, Sam’s face. Sam smiles a little. He’s caught between the fear Dean’ll pull away and the sick expectation that somehow, someone here will be able to look at them and know. This isn’t a single instead of a double in some motel room. It’s not the warmth of sitting shoulder to shoulder in the safety of the Impala. Sam steels himself for a hundred things; he’ll let go if he has to.  
  
He isn’t prepared for Dean to hook his free arm around his neck and drag them together. Dean’s mouth is warm; his stubble scrapes along Sam’s jaw.  
  
“S’alright Sammy,” Dean whispers. “Relax. Nobody here knows a damn thing about us.”  
  
Sam huffs out a laugh. Lets Dean kiss him again.


End file.
